In the early part of the last century, the public, with its abiding faith in the book of form, had ever cherished the belief that the winner of the 2000 Gns will as a matter of course proceed to win the Derby. So excellent a convention was never discouraged, for it provided a simplification of the Derby problem and, as often as not in those days, often led to a satisfactory solution. Major Dermot McCalmont's Guineas winner, the grey Tetratema, was an obvious choice for the 1920 Derby, the more so as he had been unbeaten as a 2-y-o, and was the best juvenile of that year. A few clever sorts, however, thought that Tetratema would never stay the Derby distance, so what were the other possibilities? Perhaps Sarchedon, the brilliant grey of 2-y-o renown? Sarchedon had won a good trial at Newmarket at the expense of stable companion Spion Kop, who had previously won the Spelthorne Plate at Kempton, so the pointer to Sarchedon was too good to be ignored. However few thought that Sarchedon would beat Tetratema, but the press hailed the upcoming classic as 'the Battle of the Greys'. Mr. Peter Purcell Gilpin, the trainer of both Sarchedon and Spion Kop, who had also trained the latter's sire Spearmint, was quietly of the opinion that Spion Kop was the better stayer of the two. Peter Gilpin was known as "The Wizard Of Clarehaven", a well-deserved title. However, the public remained convinced that Sarchedon had the best chance of the two, especially when arriving at the course on Derby day, they found that Smith, who was supposed to ride Spion Kop had changed mounts at the last moment. The punters remained faithful to Tetratema, who was installed as 3/1 favourite- Steve Donoghue found himself without a ride as his intended mount Prince Galahad had been scratched the previous day. He took the mount on Abbots Trace, accepting the ride on the telephone, and proceeded to provide the sensation of the afternoon. He jumped Abbots Trace off in front and set a terrific gallop, in which only Tetratema had the speed to particpate. The two colts galloped right away from the rest of the field until the descent to Tattenham Corner was reached, when, to the dismay of the crowd, Tetratema fell back, beaten; another to retire at this stage was the well-backed Allenby. Tattenham Corner rounded, two more grey colts, Poltava and Sarchedon, gave chase to the leader. They were going at a terrific pace, which racegoers knew could not be kept up. O'Neill, the new jockey on Spion Kop knew this too, and gradually improved Spion Kops's position without putting too much strain on him, while Abbots Trace and Sarchedon continued their duel. Spion Kop now began to accelerate. Two furlongs out he sailed past the two leaders, from which point the result was no longer in doubt. Binoculars were now trained on the beaten horses, both of whom were rapidly tiring, when, suddenly, Sarchedon swerved left to the rails giving Abbots Trace a violent bump. A second later, Abbots Trace crossed his legs and fell. Jockey Steve Donaghue lay prone on the ground in the path of the oncoming field. However, miraculously, Steve escaped injury, walked back to the weighing room, and after a brief rest, rode two more winners that same day. Steve Donaghue had nerves of steel, and did not know the word 'fear'. Spion Kop never won another race and failed in the St.Leger when found after the race to be unwell. An out-and-out stayer, as would be expected from a son of Spearmint, scion of the mighty Carbine. He also derived stamina from his dam, Hammerkop (what a lovely name for a mare), who won the Yorkshire Oaks, the Cesarewitch, and the Queen Alexandra Stakes! Hammerkop was a remarkable mare, she raced for eight seasons, and was 17-years-old when her son was born, the last of the only four foals she bred. Spion Kop retired to his owner's Old Connell Stud at Newbridge, in County Kildare, where he ended his days in December, 1945. He was buried at Eyrefield, close to the graves of his sire, Spearmint, and the unforgettable Pretty Polly. He sired a good number of winners in his time, including the Irish Derby winner, Kops, and had a fair measure of success as a brood mare sire. It was not until his son, Felstead, came on the scene that Spion Kop's fame as a stallion was established. Spion Kop sired an even greater horse than Felstead in the following year, 1926. The famous horse, bred by the Earl of Rosebery, was named The Bastard. He won in England and, exported to Australia, became one of the greatest horses the Australians had known for many years. His name, however, does not appear on the records. With a great sense of delicacy, they re-named him The Buzzard. Full result of the 1920 running of the Derby Stakes: 1st: Spion Kop.................K.O'Neill 2nd:Archaic.....................G.Bellhouse 3rd: Orpheus...................P.Leach 4th:Sarchedon................A.Smith Distances: 2L.,1-1/2L. Time: 2min.34-4/5 secs. Winner trained by P.P.Gilpin, Clarehaven Stables, Newmarket. SPs: 3/1 Tetratema, 8/1 Allenby, 9/1 Sarchedon, 10/1 Archaic,100/7 He Goes, 100/6 Spion Kop, 20/1 Polumetis, 25/1 and up others. Source: "The Derby Stakes" by Vincent Orchard.
Spion Kop was the subject of a betting plunge that propelled an exotic gent to fame. That man was the wonderful Ras Prince Monolulu, he of the ostrich feathers and flamboyant dress. He plonked his all on the 100-6, 1920 winner, earning himself a reputed eight thousand pounds, a fortune in those days. The self styled Prince was a man of many talents, turning his hand to fortune telling, lion taming, singing, and playing the violin. He rode horses in the circus, and at one time became the featured cannibal in a roadshow. It's reported that in 1953, Ras Prince Monolulu let it be known among all and sundry at the famed Pettycoat Lane market, that his good friend Sir Victor Sassoon had given him the nod about the chances of Pinza that year's Derby. A fortune was won on the equal favourite and the day was made more memorable when Pinza carried the recently knighted Gordon Richards to his first Derby win after 27 failures. It's said that in 1965, while in hospital, Ras Prince Monolulu choked to death while scoffing chocolate brought to him by a well wisher.
A great picture from the 1920 Derby. King George V being hounded by a beggar (notice the war medals on said beggar) please log in to view this image
Sorry to pour cold water on that, Cyc, but, in actual fact, 'Prince' Monolulu was a common racecourse tipster. He was well known for his foul mouth, and like most racecourse tipsters, would hand out his special information on many horses in the same race, in the hope that one would win and a grateful (and lucky) racegoer would come back and give him a bonus. He was a character, but at the same time extremely coarse and vulgar. He had no racing 'connections', believe me, decent people (let alone Sir Victor Sassoon - Monolulu just got lucky with Pinza, but so did thousands of others) would not have been seen dead with him. My old dad was not given to telling fancy tales, and I clearly remember this is what he told me about him. "I gotta horse, I gotta horse!!" - absolute bum, believe me. Erm, where did you get the information on the "betting plunge" on Spion Kop? I just cannot believe this rascal won 8,000 quid on this result. Where the hell did he get his stake from? Ah, now I've found an article on Monolulu. Yes, I see he is supposed to have won 8,000 on Spion Kop, but God, I find this hard to believe. It was all credit betting I believe in those days, the only legal way, and for bookies to extend him the necessary credit for the stake(s) on the bet is tough to digest. Oh well, getting out of my depth here!
He certainly was Swanny, but when putting words on the screen, one must get off the well worn path from time to time.
It was also said that Prince Monolulu touted and won a fair sum on Derby winner April The Fifth- but then had his pockets picked - and walked off the course with nothing. Goodonya, Cyc. Hope you are keeping well.
The Bastard becomes The Buzzard, you'd hardly believe it....................Australians being sensitive!!! But that's exactly how a lot of them can be. Many of you at home probably have a wifi router, pronounced correctly root ah. Well those sad sensitive Aussies have rowt ahs. When I asked why they mixed it up with a tool that makes holes in wood they said well 'root ah' sounds rude. Not to me. And Chuck Berry got his kicks on Route 66 not rowt 66. As to the Prince Monolulu part. I met him in the late '50s in Petticoat Lane. He was fully bedecked in feathers and shouting his usual things. He was quite charming really, but then I was very young.
On this Monolulu chap, I guess my dad could have been wrong, but he always insisted this tipster was bad news and kept us kids away from him when we were allowed to go racing with him, or with one of our uncles. Got a feeling I caught a glimpse of him at Epsom once, but I'm just not sure. Incidentally, Monolulu's real name was Peter Carl McKay, born in St.Croix, then the Danish West Indies, now the American Virgin Islands. What was he doing in Petticoat Lane, still selling tips, or just Tupperware (kinda early for that, I know)? One thing for certain, he certainly did not descend from Ethiopian aristocracy. No way.
Seems the man got around. After being shipwrecked off the Portuguese coast while on the way to Africa, he made his way to New York. The then worked aboard a cattle boat bound for Tilbury in 1902. Then he was off to St Petersburg, Moscow and Germany. After joining a circus, he hit Italy, France, Switzerland, and Belgium before being sent to a prison camp called Ruhleben which I think was in Germany. I think he spent the entire first world war there, before he returned to England via Denmark in 1919. I've read that Monolulu was probably the most famous ethnic personality in England between the wars. He even showed up in New York for the Middleweight Championship fight between Sugar Ray Robinson and Randolph Turpin in 1951. Others sharing the limelight that night were Eddie Cantor, Joe DiMaggio, Douglas MacArthur and Walter Winchell. I doubt whether rubbed shoulders with them, but he certainly knew some folk.
Apparently he was there every Sunday during the summer. Went down there with my Dad and he was there chanting away. He said hello and as my little brother was an angelic looking child, scooped him up and asked everyone to take pictures of both of them. He'd get arrested for that these days.
